[You're a good person, Giorno says as the messenger of Bruno Buccellati's thoughts, and he almost (almost) wants to answer that no, he's really not. There are people in the world who are good people; he's seen them, he's met them. A lot of times they've been put in danger, and occasionally they've even died. He catches himself thinking, again, of the Speedwagon Foundation, and how he doesn't understand what it is these people believe in, this entire organization full of people who come running at his grandfather's call and put their lives on the line for a fight they have no stake in except that they were asked to be a part of it.
Two young men piloting a helicopter into the desert to deliver Iggy to them, to take a picture and wish the Joestar party good luck. To give them an update on his mother. Just like that they died, and for what? Because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time? Because they tried to help, and that put them in harm's way.
It hurts, almost, trying to imagine himself lumped in with the people who deserve to be called good. A good person wouldn't have done a lot of the things he's done in his life. And it's so tempting to say that, to just say sorry, he's wrong, and not even because he wants to be convinced otherwise but for a second he thinks he almost just wants someone to agree and confirm it.
But in the end, he doesn't. What he does is listen quietly to what Giorno says, and tries to absorb it without dwelling too long on the complications raised by the fact that it's being said about him, and tries to scrape the look of almost vulnerable confusion off his face once he's done.]
He thinks I'd make a good gangster, or something?
[It's an obvious deflection; he doesn't try to pretend otherwise. But what it'll buy him either way is a few more seconds to try to sort things out, starting with why it is that something that's obviously praise feels wrong, and digs in under his skin so much.]
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Two young men piloting a helicopter into the desert to deliver Iggy to them, to take a picture and wish the Joestar party good luck. To give them an update on his mother. Just like that they died, and for what? Because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time? Because they tried to help, and that put them in harm's way.
It hurts, almost, trying to imagine himself lumped in with the people who deserve to be called good. A good person wouldn't have done a lot of the things he's done in his life. And it's so tempting to say that, to just say sorry, he's wrong, and not even because he wants to be convinced otherwise but for a second he thinks he almost just wants someone to agree and confirm it.
But in the end, he doesn't. What he does is listen quietly to what Giorno says, and tries to absorb it without dwelling too long on the complications raised by the fact that it's being said about him, and tries to scrape the look of almost vulnerable confusion off his face once he's done.]
He thinks I'd make a good gangster, or something?
[It's an obvious deflection; he doesn't try to pretend otherwise. But what it'll buy him either way is a few more seconds to try to sort things out, starting with why it is that something that's obviously praise feels wrong, and digs in under his skin so much.]